He Didn't Mean To
by Glowing Embers
Summary: There's so much blood “What happened”the words came from him“He didn't mean to” She said “Did he?”but she answered before he finished the question“No”He then let her wrists go so he could get in a better position to finish what he'd started


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The ground was slightly unsteady under his feet, tilting from side to side. But Draco was concentrating more on the sound his feet made when walking on the snow than where exactly he was going. In fact, he didn't seem to care any way if he should continue on his leisurely stroll or fall to the ground and take a well-needed nap.  
  
  
  
A bottle fell out of his hand and he stopped, swayed, then looked at it. The letters blurred but from some where in the back of his mind he saw the label and recalled that it was of alcohol- very strong alcohol to be exact. And it was working quite effectively.   
  
  
  
How long he had been standing there he did not know. But soon he lost interest in the bottle after deciding that leaning down to pick it up would be a very big mistake indeed. And so he continued on to some where unknown, a destination which he couldn't name. He would have turned back by now, Hogwarts seemed so far away now, though he hadn't yet because for some reason a nagging feeling kept pushing him forward.  
  
  
  
'Just a little farther.' He would tell him self. 'Then you can sit down and sleep this hang over off a bit.' And an occasional 'You are smashed mate, you'll never make it.' But he ignored the last thought, and all monologues ceased as he saw something.  
  
  
  
Something red.  
  
  
  
Small and red.  
  
  
  
Droplets.  
  
  
  
Little droplets turning into big ones.  
  
  
  
Then something else came into his vision as he slowly looked ahead.  
  
  
  
Something else red.  
  
  
  
Bright red.  
  
  
  
And something that wasn't really a thing.  
  
  
  
It was a person.  
  
  
  
Draco looked around now and noticed he had practically been following a small path of footprints. And then his eyes went back to the shaking pile of red. Some of the red was blood…the other red was the red of the girl's hair, Draco knew that now, and that it was a girl huddled under the nearby tree. She had found a nice little niche in the root system above ground of the ancient sweeping branches. The foliage around her should have hidden her small, shivering body, but the recent snowfall had made everything turn a pure white thus she stood out so vividly.  
  
  
  
The color of red against the snow had some how woken him up slightly, he no longer swayed and threatened to fall to the ground. His body was tense, his fingers tapped against his thigh nervously as he waited for her to look at him, sit up straight, or throw something in his direction.   
  
  
  
But she did not. In fact his sense of time was still a bit off and he could have been standing there for a few seconds or any hour for all he knew.   
  
  
  
Draco took a step forward and almost winced as the snow crunched faintly under his feet, a sound which was slightly comforting and almost unnoticeable background noise previously now seemed to echo across the vast lawn.  
  
  
  
Though, still, she did not stir. This annoyed him for some reason. He was Draco Malfoy, he should demand some sort of attention from her. The flash of anger drained from him quickly, and he lost his nerve right at the last second to yell "Oi! What the feck are you doing out here?"   
  
  
  
He should have yelled, he really should. Here she was, her clothes looked slightly ripped and she had no winter robe on at all, not even a jumper for Christ's sake. So instead he cleared his throat. At first the small noise was muffled, but then he cleared his throat louder. But, if any thing, she seemed to curl into her self more so than before.  
  
  
  
'Alright, this game is ridiculous.' He though to him self, and started toward her, not caring how loud a noise his shoes made as they harshly crunched into the snow, compacting it. He now stood in front of her, the buzz in his brain had dulled slightly and his mind still was not clear of the influence of alcohol but he assured him self that wasn't why he hadn't called anything out to her in the first place. This was, after all, and now that he could see her up close, the Little Weasel.   
  
  
  
"Hey." He said, not as a greeting, but more of a bark and filled with annoyance. He didn't even have to add "Why are /you/ even in my bloody site?! Get the hell out of my way, rodent." Those unspoken words, he knew, were ringing clear to her, but still she didn't move.  
  
  
  
That was when panic set in. Yes, panic.  
  
  
  
'What if she's dead? What of they think I did it? What if she was attacked and is willing to pin it on me just for walking past her?' She just might after such a fashion he had treated her. And now that he thought of it there was blood…so much blood.  
  
  
  
He kneeled down in front of her and almost lost his balance. They were on some what of a small hill side, though not very steep, it still was a danger to one who was drunk- which was exactly what he was, or he'd probably have walked past or thrown something at her just to see if she'd move. But he hadn't…yet.  
  
  
  
When he regained his balance by leaning forward and reaching out his hands into the snow he began to study her. She seemed to not be moving now, not even to breathe so he reached a cold hand out to her.  
  
  
  
She stayed huddled against the roots. He lightly ran his fingers through her hair, he liked the feel of it. Virginia didn't move. He placed strands behind her ear and put his hand on the back of her neck, dipping slightly into the collar of hr shirt. And finally some movement, he could have sworn she squeezed her eyes tighter…though they could have been like that before.  
  
  
  
"Hey." He said for the second time, only in a different tone. He said it softly, quietly, almost as if asking permission to invade this space she has so plainly made her own.   
  
  
  
Now that he could get a decent look at her face though, he wasn't sure if he liked what he saw. Was it any of his business what the bitch was up to at this hour of the evening? Or why it looked as if she'd gotten the hell beat out of her? No, no it wasn't….but it bothered him. He ran his thumb over a bruise on her cheek and she flinched.   
  
  
  
Finally some movement. She was alive, but he could never of told by touching her skin- she was cold as ice. She was too pale as well, though her face looked to be covered in shadows- but he knew better, they were bruises. Bruises that would later turn deep purple maybe even black then yellow and green. Also the frozen blood did well to cover her face, along with trails of dried tears. Her little fists were not only white with cold but also because she was gripping her hands so tight.  
  
  
  
His vision blurred for a second and he could feel a head ache coming on, but the slightly out of touch state that he was in kept him from getting up and walking away, making a snide comment or something of the like. He instead made little circles on the back of her neck and turned her face slowly with his other hand so she was looking at him.  
  
  
  
Finally her eyes were opened. They were dilated and red from crying, wide and scared. Still she looked at him, at first with fear and surprise- whom was she expecting? Then with just plain fear. But she was like a deer caught in headlights.  
  
  
  
"What happened." The words finally came out of his mouth. He heard his own voice and it sounded calm and collected, almost unconcerned. He moved his hands to her upper arms, afraid he might bruise her face more if she should pull away quickly.   
  
  
  
She did not answer him, instead she asked her own question in a whisper, "Why are you here?", then looked around quickly as if she expected some one else to be with him.  
  
  
  
He ignored this question and repeated his own, they could do this all night- or at least until his buzz wore off. "What happened." This was asked a bit more firmly than before, more of a harsh statement than a question.  
  
  
  
Her lower lip trembled and, like he thought she would, she tried to pull away from him, shrinking back. But his grip was firm. She turned her head away and flinched. He only grabbed her wrists with one hand, and with the other he grabbed her chin and brought her forward. She cried out but only for a second. Still holding her wrists he let go of her chin and covered her mouth.  
  
  
  
'I'm to old for bloody children's games.' With this thought he got out his wand and brought it against her. The tip dug into her ribs painfully. She didn't make a sound. Draco opened his mouth to tell her she was really going to get it if she didn't tell him who did this to her- which technically didn't make any sense. He hated men who beat their girlfriends (or women in general) though that isn't to say he hasn't knocked around a few of his own, not to mention she was already, and undoubtedly, beaten.  
  
  
  
But she was quicker with a response. "He didn't mean to." Ginny's voice was hushed and her words ran together, but he caught it. By now he had no more hands to keep her still with and he was a bit lightheaded himself so he leaned forward, pressing his knees more into the root system and eventually she leaned back. Soon though the proximity of their bodies became painfully obvious and she began to get that look of fear in her eyes.  
  
  
  
"Quiet." He said simply, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in every detail of her appearance. Draco had a feeling she would have screamed her lungs out if it weren't for other people finding out about her condition. And who ever had done this had gotten her good; split lip, bruised face and neck…he didn't want to know what else had been done to her as he saw her ripped skirt and various buttons missing on her blouse.  
  
  
  
"Did he-?" Draco began slowly, but once again she answered before he even began the question.  
  
  
  
"No."  
  
  
  
Removing his eyes from her torn blouse, and small bit of lace from her bra that could be seen, he looked at her again. The girl looked worn out- tired- exhausted. If anything she probably needed sleep more than he did. But for the moment sleep was the last thing on his mind. He couldn't think clearly, pictures, or memories- thoughts of some kind kept entering his head and they weren't even his own.  
  
  
  
This was just another reason to drink, to get away from other people's minds and their petty thoughts. But as they faded he knew he was still drunk to some degree, the spell placed on the alcohol should probably keep him that way for a while.  
  
  
  
A bit sluggishly Draco moved his wand from her ribs to her face. Though as soon as she saw it she got very still and no longer looked at him but the wand. For a second he lightly traced a bruise that covered her left cheekbone but she turned her head away, screwing her eyes shut and arching her back so it wouldn't press so painfully into a tree root. Although he would have immediately moved her back he just happened to notice the way her body arched into his more. But he had to keep this strictly business, thoughts of what could have happened to her or of what he could do to her now had to be pushed away. And he did so…with difficulty. He let go of her wrists, which immediately went to her sides and grasped roots and half melted snow, so he could get in a better position to finish what he'd started. Draco moved over her a little more and turned her face toward him again, and that was when he saw them. Fresh tears. Obviously they had the same act in mind only each with a different manner.  
  
  
  
"Shhhh." He shushed her for a moment and brought his wand up again, she flinched but he ignored it, then muttered the best spell he knew to get rid of bruises.  
  
  
  
Why? Well, even he didn't know exactly why he wanted to heal her. Maybe it was because she looked so small and helpless lying in the snow. Maybe it was the site of all the blood he'd seen coming from her, who knew how much she had left to spare? Then again, maybe the only time he could actually care about something was when he was flat out drunk…yes, that seemed to be the most logical answer, and one he would stick to if he woke up and remembered all of this later on.  
  
  
  
It took a few minutes to heal her on the account of he couldn't think straight and kept stumbling over the correct words, but her tears stopped so he supposed he did something right. It wasn't until he got to her neck that she gently grabbed his hand. He looked at her for an explanation and she only gave him a panicked look- which he ignored. He casually opened her blouse a bit more and almost winced him self. Fingerprints were visible where there were now bruises, deep bruises along her neck and one side of her ribs as well. He tried to heal her the best he could and what he couldn't heal he cast a concealing charm upon.  
  
  
  
Afterwards he sat up once again and took off his cloak, lifted her up a little bit and wrapped her in it. Holding her slightly they laid back down. Only as an after though Draco performed a warming charm around them, though not a very good one, his brain was still a tad foggy.  
  
  
  
In a short time the snow around them had melted and color came back into Ginny's face. They both were sleeping, but only for a blink of an eye, soon though they just looked at each other.  
  
  
  
"Why are you doing this?" she whispered finally, her voice was strained.  
  
  
  
Draco blinked slowly, then drawled his previously thought out answer "Because I'm drunk off my ass." Her lips turned up in an almost smile, but then dropped.  
  
  
  
"Who did this?" He asked once again  
  
  
  
But she only looked away. "He didn't mean to."   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
(A/N): Inspired by- Ginny and I: By Draco Malfoy author SeZza Ok, I hadn't even gotten a few paragraphs into SeZza's work when this idea- no, a picture of this idea pops into my head. And I had to write it out, I don't care if I never finish it…though I probably will. My writing style in this is a little bit different too, there is allot more detail, more thinking, more analyzing from a characters point of view. Which I thought was fun to write and work out.  
  
  
  
Please tell me what you think. For those of you who have read my work before how do you like this style compared? I can write on if requested, but still this can stay a one shot…it's all up to you folks.  
  
  
  
And I know Dracos "drunken state" might sound a bit…off, but I've noticed people mix with alcohol differently. Some get giggly others get real quiet- it all kind of depends.  
  
  
  
-Glowing Embers  
  
  
  
  
  
p.s. I wrote this starting at about one in the morning and its now 4:30 AM so if there are spelling mistakes, sentences that don't make sense or anything of the sort I apologize and could you email me at cat_eyed_gypsy@hotmail.com and tell me about them I'd be more than happy to fix em. Thanks.  
  
  
  
  
  
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